


i wanna get dirty with you

by Awriterwrites



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Earth School Movement, Education, Especially those who are frustrated and ready for a revolution, M/M, Seattle, Smut, Teacher Harry, Teacher Louis, This is sort of a love song to teachers, but i may be biased, early childhood teachers are pretty awesome, education conference, the great outdoors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:37:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7359682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awriterwrites/pseuds/Awriterwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You good?”</p>
<p>The man’s voice rang out like clear bells from a church tower, light and airy with a gentle rasp like a knife on toast. </p>
<p>It took Harry a moment to realize he was talking to him.</p>
<p>“Me?” Harry squeaked out, his voice a bit wobbly around the edges. </p>
<p>“Just waiting for you to get settled, sweetheart.”</p>
<p>This guy was a naturalist? The headmaster of an outdoor preschool? Harry felt a little woozy. Like he might collapse or propose. He wasn’t quite sure.</p>
<p>****<br/>Harry is a kindergarten teacher.  Louis is revolutionizing education--one child at a time.  A conference may be an unlikely place to meet someone, but somehow Harry finds Louis and Louis helps Harry find himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i wanna get dirty with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [countingcr0ws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/countingcr0ws/gifts).



> Hi! So...this is a teacher fic. But maybe not what you'd expect. CountingCr0ws--I hope it's ok, but I took some liberties with your prompt to bring it into my own more in my sphere of knowledge and interest. Also--I just thought it would be fun to have our brave heroes meet at a professional conference--and get turned on by the way the other one thinks--and maybe get it on in a hotel room. Maybe.
> 
> Here's the prompt: I want a kindergarten teacher trope. Or a teacher's trope. I don't even know. I just want teachers and doubts like should I date him sort. For the first one of them has to have a kid obviously and the teacher is their favouritest and for the second I want teasing, oh my god. Just teachers and a whole lot of clumsy interactions and fumbling.
> 
> I have to thank @gettingaphdinlarry for being the most amazing beta to ever walk the planet. She pushed me in this story and my writing is better because of it. This is our fic baby--darling--I think it has your eyes.
> 
> Also, the incomparable @twopoppies provided the art (er, porn?) for this little fic. And GOD if it isn't amazing. Be sure to let her know how much you love it! 
> 
> Thanks for reading--sorry for rambling. Be sure to leave me a note and let me know what you think! XXOO

**I Wanna Get Dirty With You**

There was something about the smell of a classroom.

No matter where you went, what kind of school, they all kind of had the same smell. Something like dust and books and industrial cleaning solution. But underneath that, it smelled like triumph and frustration and the ignition of something deep-rooted and luminous. Something like learning.

Harry walked around the room once more to make sure that everything was put in its place and that his lessons and notes for the substitute were ready for the next day. Satisfied with his last-minute inspection, he grabbed his messenger bag and marled wool cardigan and left the room.

The halls were mostly empty at this time of day, students long gone and already plastered in front of televisions or running all over soccer fields in the surrounding neighborhoods. His heels clicked on the heavily waxed tile, shadow shimmying along the wall next to him.

Harry found his best friend at his desk in his cramped office at the end of the hall. “Hey,” Harry said simply from the door, taking in Niall’s tired expression and slumped shoulders. His friend was exhausted. Exhausted and worn out from the day, the month, the year…

“Hey.” Niall’s voice was weary. Harry noted that his normally bright, mischievous blue eyes were dull and sad looking.

“Bad day?” Harry dropped into the chair across from Niall, picking up one of the many fidgets on his social worker friend’s desk.

Niall placed his pen next to his notepad and powered off his laptop. “Bad doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Wanna drink. And then talk about it.” Niall strapped his laptop inside his backpack and pushed back his chair. He glanced at Harry as they left the office and started walking toward the teacher’s lot at the back of the school. “When did you start dressing like Mister Rogers?” he snorted.

Harry bumped shoulders with him, adjusting his bag as he did so. “I’ll have you know Mister Rogers was the coolest. The baddest. The most radical neighbor of them all.”

Niall smirked, a bit of his normal temperament rising to the surface. “Right. Keep telling yourself that, old man.”

Harry brushed imaginary lint off of his sweater. With his corduroys he was afraid Niall might be right. But he was comfortable. And Sarah had sensory issues and she liked to sit near him and run her hands over the soft feathery wales whenever she was upset or worked up about a particular problem she was solving. Anyway. He wasn’t old. Twenty-nine was practically a baby.

Practically.

The bright May sun tickled Harry’s face like a warm kiss on the cheek, his skin prickling with the sensation after being inside the air conditioned building all day. He slipped his sweater off and followed Niall to the car. It was Niall’s turn to drive this week. They only lived a few blocks from each other, Harry in a spartan studio apartment near city center and Niall in a garden unit closer to school. They’d talked about getting a place together; try to make their meager salaries stretch a little farther, but they hadn’t reached the end of their leases yet. They also were skirting the issue of Niall being a bit of a slob and Harry being a bit of an obsessive neat freak. So, there was that. For whatever reason, they were content to carpool and share the majority of their meals together each weeknight without actually cohabitating. It was nice to have the camaraderie when they wanted and equally as nice to have their own separate space.

Niall navigated the car out of the parking lot, stopping to let a mass of moms with strollers and young children pass by. Harry waved at Gabe and his younger brother from preschool. Gabe waved back enthusiastically. It made Harry smile. He loved his students so much.

****

Ruby’s was a small bar near the interstate that catered to truckers and the occasional happy hour group. It was dark and dingy, done up in dark paneling and vinyl maroon booths. The beer was cheap and it was quiet enough in the afternoons to have a drink and talk with a friend.

Harry felt like he was playing ricochet with his eyes this afternoon, the adjustment from light to dark another reminder of the fact that spring was unfolding everywhere. But inside Ruby’s the air was cool and it only took a moment for Harry to make out the bar and an empty booth on the far side of the room. Niall told Harry to go sit down and he’d get their drinks.

A few moments passed until Niall joined him with two drafts and a big basket of popcorn. They were both silent for a moment while they sipped their beers and listened to the jukebox that was in the corner. Harry hummed along to “Barracuda” by Heart as he tossed a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth. He was going to wait Niall out; experience told him that when Niall was ready he would talk.

Finally, Niall broke the silence. “I’m just so sick of it, you know?”

Harry nodded along. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what Niall was sick of but he waited for Niall to explain.

“It’s like. The teachers can’t handle the kids because of the assessments. Those fucking tests are killing them. But then the kids…” He ran a hand over his face and continued, “…the kids can’t help it sometimes, you know? I couldn’t sit down as long as some of them are supposed to, and I’m a fucking adult.”

Harry arched an eyebrow. “You? An adult?”

Niall responded by throwing popcorn at his face. “Yeah. So. Tim Connors was sent to me again today. Fourth time this week. All because Judy couldn’t handle him.”

Harry nodded. Judy Windman was a good teacher. Strict, but good. She was a little high-strung though, and the end-of-the-year statewide testing had her really stressed out. He could hear her yelling at her fourth graders from down the hall sometimes.

“So the kid is in my office, looking at his fucking shoes, kicking my desk and looks like someone beat the shit out of him, you know? He just looked so done. Like he was some kind of failure or something. All because he can’t sit still. Can’t sit still and just spew information like a robot or some shit.” Niall took a long drink of his nearly empty beer. He ran a hand over his face, eyes puffy and tired looking.

“I know,” Harry said simply. Because he did. He knew all about the pressures on teachers to get their kids to perform if they wanted to keep their jobs, earn performance increases, make the district look good…but it was all done at the expense of the kids. Children weren’t meant to learn like this. They were meant to learn by doing, experiencing. School had become big business for government and test development companies alike and it sucked. All of it sucked.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do it H,” Niall whispered. “I became a social worker because I wanted to help kids learn how to feel good about themselves, you know? And this? This is a fucking joke.”

Harry nodded in commiseration. They’d had this conversation before, many iterations of it. As a kindergarten teacher Harry was beginning to see some of the same external forces trickling their way into his age group. But he still had some autonomy, even though it was dwindling by the year. But this time Niall seemed more frustrated than usual. “What are you going to do?”

Niall started peeling the label off his beer. “’M thinking about taking that job with my uncle.”

“At the hospital?”

“Yeah. It’s more money and…yeah.”

Harry knew it wasn’t about the money for Niall. It wasn’t about the money for any of them. Teachers, school social workers, hell, even the people who served lunch in the school cafeteria didn’t take the job because they wanted to make loads of money. No, they took the job because of their love for children and for their belief that they could make a difference. And that ideal was slowly becoming a thing of the past.

“So.” Niall slid Harry one of the shot glasses he’d brought back from the bar across the table. “Fuck ’em!”

Harry lifted his glass high in the air, watching the amber liquid roll from side to side. “Fuck ’em!”

****

“Ni. Ni. No. ’M serious. Ni.” Harry plopped down on the steps of his apartment building. He hiccupped loudly, wincing at the taste of beer in the back of his throat. “I mean it. You’d totally be it for me.”

Niall laughed and leaned against the railing. “Right. I know H, I know. If I were an ass-loving man you’d marry me tonight.”

Harry looked up at Niall with bleary bewildered eyes. “No! I mean it. I would. Because…” a loud burp erupted from his thin body as he finally pulled out his keys from his messenger bag, “I love you!”

Niall smiled and clutched his heart. “You love me! Harry Styles loves me! My heart!”

Harry grinned foolishly and pushed himself up to standing, wobbling as he attempted to turn around. “It’s true. I do, Niall Horan. I love you.” He swayed as he squinted down at the door, finally getting the key in after a few poor attempts. He pushed the door in and stood inside, peering down at Niall, his bright blue eyes shining up at Harry’s sparkling green ones. “You’re one of the good ones,” he said quietly, tears springing to his eyes. Stupid alcohol.

Niall smiled softly, rapping his knuckles on the railing once. “You too, H. You too.”

Harry wiped a stray tear from his cheek, his emotions getting the better of him, the alcohol and the day and the whole… _teaching thing_ just getting in his head. Niall started to step forward, a foot on the bottom stair before Harry started waving his hands around. “No! No, don’t. I’m—I’m fine, Ni. Just. I love you, you know? And. Yeah. So.”

Niall nodded and watched his friend carefully, looking to see if he was really ok. “You ok, H?”

“Yeah. Yes! ’M fine. Just. Yeah. Pick me up at six?” Harry sniffed and stood up straighter.

Niall nodded again. “Yep. I’ll be here.”

Harry smirked, a dimple showing in the crevice of his cheek. “And I was right you know.”

Niall tilted his head, already turning toward his waiting car at the curb.

“It’s ‘revved up like a deuce’ not ‘wrapped up like a douche!’” Harry grinned a moment more, obviously delighting in his being able to drag Niall thanks to his superior knowledge of seventies music.

“Shut the fuck up!” Niall called over his shoulder, braying laughter as his car peeled out and careened down the street.

****

Harry woke a few hours later, his face smushed into the pillow below him, a puddle of saliva smeared against his chin. With a grunt he rolled over and felt the urge to pee. Like, right now. Groaning as his head struggled at being upright; he stumbled to the adjoining bathroom.

Keeping one eye open, he aimed and leaned over the toilet, his mind completely fuzzy and his mouth worse. Harry ran his tongue over sticky teeth and fell over the sink, washing his hands and throwing water on his face. He reached out blindly for his toothbrush and cleaned his teeth. All he could think about was getting back to bed. Back to bed where he could sleep it off for a few more hours. Then he could throw some clothes in a backpack and hop into Niall’s car and get dropped at the airport. In a few hours he’d be—

Oh fuck.

Forgetting his aching head and debilitating hangover, Harry raced into his room and fumbled in last night’s jeans that were left at the foot of his unmade bed. He pulled out his phone and tapped it on.

“Oh fuck.”

5:55. 5:55 in the fucking morning and Niall was…

A horn beeped once outside. Short and clear. Niall.

“Oh fuck.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair and fell forward as he scrambled to pull his jeans on. “Fuck. Fucking fucker.”

He grabbed his phone and hit Niall’s number. “Hello? Hello? Fuck.” He dropped his phone.

“Fuck.” Picking up his phone, Harry rasped, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He shoved his phone back in his jeans, not even sure that he hung it up properly. He sniffed at his t-shirt, the same one he wore under his button up yesterday and slept in last night, and deemed it acceptable. He picked up a flannel from the floor. Again, sort of acceptable, and stuffed another pair of jeans and two clean shirts from his closet in the backpack. A quick trip to the bathroom to grab a few necessities and he was flying down the stairs.

Niall looked at him for a full moment before bursting into laughter.

“Fuck you,” Harry remarked, his voice flat and empty of any conviction.

“You look like shit.” Niall pulled away from the curb, doing a U-turn on the vacant street.

Harry dug around in Niall’s back seat, his entire body twisted like a serpent as he shoved old newspapers and empty coffee cups around. “Aha!”

Niall glanced at his friend as he pulled a maroon beanie down over his sleep rumpled hair. “Matches your eyes,” Niall teased. “Red.”

“Ha. Ha.” Harry tucked a few longer strands from around his neck up into the hat. He pulled open his backpack and re-checked its contents. “Ah fuck!”

“What?” Niall turned on to the expressway.

Harry dropped his bag between his feet. “Forgot to pack underwear.” He slammed his head back on to the seat behind him. Then he groaned. Because…hangover.

Niall smirked, pressing down on the gas. “Well, you can just go commando. Not like it won’t be the first time.”

Harry whined and rolled his head to the side to look at his friend. “But I’m going to be like. In a professional setting, Ni.” His voice was really far too whiny for this early in the morning.

“Maybe you can ask the concierge to get you some?”

Harry whined again. Apparently this is how he was communicating today.

Niall dropped Harry at departures with a pat on the shoulder and a sympathetic look. “See you Sunday.”

“See you Sunday,” Harry echoed. He shouldered his pack and walk-ran through the quiet early morning airport, mentally berating himself for the many beers and shots he consumed last night. It had felt good, though, was the thing. Had felt good to let go of a little anger and frustration; the culmination of many days, weeks and years had come to yet another head.

Sitting on the plane an hour or so later, Harry let himself nod off, happy to let his mind rest and his body work to repair itself. Hangovers used to be easier in college, he found himself thinking as he nodded off. Getting old sucks.

****

“Sir. Sir.”

Harry jerked away, aware of two things at once. He had to pee. Desperately. And his chin was wet. With drool.

“Huh?”

He looked up into kind gray eyes. “You fell asleep sir. We’ve been at the gate now for twenty minutes.”

“Oh. Oh!” Harry sat up straight, feeling a sense of déjà vu roll over him. It was like this morning all over again.

The flight attendant politely got out of his way as he reached below the seat to get his bag. “We let you sleep as long as we could,” she said, not unkindly.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured, standing and stooping at the same time so as to not hit his head on the low ceiling above him. He slipped past the attendant, shying away from her overly friendly smile and slightly creepy closeness.

“Thanks for flying with us!” she called out after him, her voice eager and a bit desperate.

As Harry turned the corner of the jet bridge he could hear the flight attendants giggling and swore he heard a reference to his “cute ass”. For a moment he considered turning around and letting them know that, no, thank you very much, he’s not interested, but…it was kind of nice to get _some_ attention— _any_ attention—since he’d been sort of lacking in that department lately. It’s not like he wasn’t looking, more like he just didn’t have the energy. He was hoping that getting away to this conference would not only be good for his professional outlook, but maybe help rejuvenate himself personally too.

With a new spring in his step, Harry felt purposeful and maybe even a little optimistic, as he walked into the busy Seattle airport.

****

Any sense of optimism Harry felt had floated away into the cool humid air rolling down from the Cascades over Seattle within moments of settling into the back of the worn taxi.

Traffic was dense as the cab lurched painfully slow toward the hotel where the educator’s conference was being held. Harry felt a headache coming on as he watched the dash clock tick away the minutes. He was already ten minutes late for the key note when the driver said it would be at least twenty more minutes before they got to their destination.

Harry huffed a breath and powered on his phone. He had a text from Niall telling him to have fun and another from his mom, who was in…Ibiza? Spain? Somewhere. Harry had lost track. His mother and her new husband—wealthy husband—were on a whirlwind world tour. He was happy for his mom, but still…felt a sense of jealousy that it seemed she’d finally found someone she could be herself with. Someone she could be truly happy with. Which was…stupid. Petty. But still. Harry wanted that.

He looked out the window and saw the morning commuters crawl by, clutching their cups of coffee or talking excitedly into their hands free phones. He took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to will himself to relax. He thought about his kids, back home in their classroom. They’d be settling in right about now, starting morning circle.

He was starting to feel carsick.

Another deep breath in. Breathe out. In. Out.

“How much further?”

“Close now. Almost there.” The cabbie signaled and veered off on an exit ramp, heading into the depths of the city.

Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He probably just needed to eat something. He was hoping that, despite being late, he could find some breakfast. The driver maneuvered the car through a few busier streets and then along a series of side streets until he was in front of a posh-looking hotel on the shores of the sound. Harry eased his long legs out of the cramped backseat and shouldered his pack after passing some bills to the driver.

He stood in front of the hotel and paused for a moment. The landscape was done in dark green ivy and flowers in all shades of cream and white. There was a fountain built into the façade of the entrance, the bubbling water soothing in the bright light of early morning. Harry noticed the sign near the revolving door that said “Welcome Educators!” He smiled and walked toward the hotel.

****

“Oh, excuse me. Sorry. Sorry. Jeez. Oh. ’S…sorry.” Harry tripped over another briefcase and bounced off of the back of someone’s chair, jostling the woman and making her careen into the fully set table in front of her. The clatter of silverware and glass rang out in the crowded ballroom. A few people around him shushed angrily as Harry’s cheeks flamed crimson. “Sorry,” he whispered with his head hung low.

He made his way to the only open seat in the room, of course at the fucking front of the room, eyes down as he continued navigating through the maze of chairs and people and personal belongings scattered over the floor. “Sorry,” he whispered to the man sitting at the table he was wriggling into, “can you, um...?”

The man looked up and grunted, grabbed his bag from the empty chair, turning back to face the front of the room. Harry sat in the seat, trying to make himself as small as possible. He hated being late. Worse than that he was famished and it looked like breakfast had been cleared away. He looked forlornly at the mostly empty table, used napkins and empty coffee cups strewn about. As if on cue, his stomach growled impossibly loud.

He suddenly felt exposed. Was his stomach that loud?

Looking up and around his newly found table he noticed that all eyes were on him. Every single person at the table was looking at him. Harry swallowed thickly and was about to whisper “what?” when he heard a throat clearing from the front of the ballroom. Not exactly the front. From all sides. Because it was coming over the loudspeaker. The microphone. It was the keynote speaker.

Slowly Harry dragged his eyes upward so he could find the source of the loud silence echoing throughout the room. He jerked a little in his seat when his eyes met the clearest, most amazing shade of blue he’d ever seen. At the front of the room, on the small stage with a podium and a large pull-down screen behind him, was a tiny, compact creature of a man. He had fluffy brown hair that was artfully styled so that it looked unstyled. He was wearing a pair of sinfully tight black jeans that almost didn’t qualify as jeans—they were practically painted on—a fitted white t-shirt and a black blazer with the sleeves rolled up to show random tattoos dancing up both forearms. His pants were rolled up to show slender pale ankles with a small triangle tattoo at the line where his black sneaker met malleoli.

This guy was hot. Like really fucking hot. He had Harry holding his breath, vision narrowed to that small space ahead where he was standing, the entire rest of the room fading out into nothingness.

“You good?”

The man’s voice rang out like clear bells from a church tower, light and airy with a gentle rasp like a knife on toast.

It took Harry a moment to realize he was talking to him.

“Me?” Harry squeaked out, his voice a bit wobbly around the edges.

“Just waiting for you to get settled, sweetheart.”

Harry stared, stunned. Because. What was happening? The hottest man on the planet was talking to him, directing all of that laser energy and focus on him and he was...was he making fun of him?

“’M good.” Harry mumbled sheepishly, wishing he could crawl under the table.

“Good. Ok, then. Where were we?” The man clapped his hands together and rubbed them slowly, the slide of his delicate fingers together making Harry squirm a little in his seat.

The lights in the room dimmed and a quick-paced slideshow began behind the man. Harry reached toward the center of the table and took a program from a small stack nestled among the salt and pepper shakers and the empty little carafes of cream.

“Louis Tomlinson” was the name typed beneath the picture on the program, the black and white photo a study of edges and shadows, the man’s sharp cheekbones and dark eyes striking against the shades of pixelated gray. Harry glanced back up at the stage where the man, Louis, was speaking.

The photo was nothing in comparison to the real thing.

Louis Tomlinson commanded the stage, the audience. He paced back and forth, slow easy strides, the fabric of his clingy pants stretching across his ass with every step. Harry sniffed and looked back at the program.

_Louis Tomlinson, founder and headmaster of Earth School, Seattle’s first and foremost naturalistic education center for preschoolers, believes that children learn through the magic and wonder of the natural world. A practicing center of the “Forest School” movement, Earth School allows children to experience all of their learning through exploration of Seattle’s natural world. At Earth School, students learn science by digging in the dirt. They learn math by taking measurements found in nature all around them. The learn reading, writing and comprehension through stories and poems about the magic that Mother Earth has to share…_

Harry’s head snapped up as he took in the pacing form at the head of the room. This guy was a naturalist? The headmaster of an outdoor preschool? Harry felt a little woozy. Like he might collapse or propose. He wasn’t quite sure.

Over the next thirty minutes, Louis told the story of how the Earth School came to be, how his frustration with typical early childhood programs led him to investigate the Forest School Movement of Europe and how he wanted to share his love of nature and learning with children and families. He was enigmatic. _Mesmerizing_. He spoke with such passion and conviction, Harry was half hard by the time he thanked the audience and announced he’d be signing books in the hall.

Despite embarrassing himself half to death during his grand entrance, Harry found himself gravitating toward the cloth-covered table near the entrance of the ballroom. He patiently walked behind a group of middle-aged math teachers, from the sound of it, and ran his hands through his hair. He knew he must look a mess, having slept on the plane, and he probably smelled like last night’s beer, but he had to talk to that man, had to _see_ Louis up close.

“Thanks, thanks so much,” Louis said, shaking a young woman’s hand, who was blushing at his contact with her. Louis had a big smile plastered to his face and he looked so genuine, Harry could feel it emanating from him.

A few more people were milling about, clutching copies of his book— _Let’s Get Dirty_ —and he patiently signed each of them, making small talk as the educators watched him. Harry stood idly off to the side, waiting for Louis to finish. He watched in fascination as Louis’ hand gripped the neon green gel pen while his other hand flicked his hair from his eyes once in awhile, the movement fluid and spectacularly feminine. Yet, his body was hard angles, suffused with soft curves, each part of it a delicious combination of feminine and decidedly masculine. It was spellbinding.

Harry had a type.

Usually he went for the rugged, outdoorsy kind of guy. The kind of guy that did construction work, or gardening. Stuff with his hands. He liked men who were rough around the edges and who looked like they could rough him up a bit. He liked feeling manhandled in bed, but protected at the same time.

And this guy, Louis Tomlinson, was nothing like what he usually went for.

He was wispy and slim, but solid and curvy at the same time. His voice was like magic to Harry. He had a cadence to his words that was almost whimsical. Sweet but unhinged, sort of dangerous in a way. Harry wanted to talk to him; could listen to him for hours, he thought.

Finally it was his turn, and as Harry moved up to the table, Louis’ back was turned while he crouched down to pick up his bag behind his chair. And at that view, Harry felt like the earth was stopping, standing still at this moment in time. It was like when you read a book and the character has this moment of clarity, usually as they looked back at some intrinsic part of their life, some point when they made a choice that changed the course of their life...this moment was like that. Except Harry had the foresight to see it now. See that this moment, the moment when he introduced himself to Louis Tomlinson would change everything. Forever.

Or he had just seen the most perfect arse in his life. Either of those things, really.

Louis turned around and met Harry’s eyes, evenly, with the hint of a challenge. “Oh, so it's you then.”

Harry shifted from foot to foot, nervous energy pouring from his body, as he stared back at Louis. “It is,” he said simply, wide grin taking over his face.

Louis put his bag down on the table and stood there, his hands clasped in front of him, body swaying slightly and locked eyes with Harry. The two men smiled at each other, a foot or two between them, and just _stared_ . Louis’ eyes swept over Harry’s face and Harry used the moment to look down Louis’ small frame, taking in the flex of tendons at his wrists and the way his t-shirt wrinkled up around the waist of his jeans. He wanted to reach out and slide his hand up the front of that shirt and just feel. _Explore_.

“So. Where’s your book?” Louis said the question in probably far too seductive of a voice. Or at least Harry thought so.

Harry was still staring at the perfect way Louis’ lips met when he talked. “My…?”

“Your book. For me to sign?” His voice was just the right amount of rasp intermingled with gentleness. It reminded Harry of the way it felt when lying on sand with the sun overhead, your body hot and cradled by the earth below, but just enough grit to keep you from falling asleep.

Harry looked around, as if a book would magically appear in his hands. “Oh. Yeah. I don’t have one.” He dropped his hands to his sides and continued looking at Louis’ face. He noticed a scattering of freckles along the bridge of his nose and over the scruffy sides of his cheeks. “But, like, I’m wondering...so how long have you been working in education? Because like, I always knew I wanted to be a teacher. Well, a teacher or an environmental scientist, but yeah. So, I just, like, fell in love with teaching but, you know...so, what about you?”

He was an idiot. Rambling like a lunatic. Staring at this hot guy like he’d never seen someone good looking before. Harry was torn between launching himself over the table and sniffing the handsome man across the table like a dog—because, well, he had to smell good,if he looked like that—or crawling back home because seriously he just stuck his foot into it.

Rambling Harry strikes again.

Louis laughed, that delicious sound curling its way into Harry’s ears again. It made Harry smile. Wide. “Well, my whole history is in my book. You know, if you had one?”

Harry scratched his head and felt his cheeks flame red. “Right. Your book. Um, can I buy a copy?”

“I ran out here, but I have extras in my room,” Louis said, smiling at Harry like he was a cute fluffy puppy.

“Oh! Yeah. I can go to your room. Totally.” Harry blinked and shook his head rapidly. “No, I mean—that’s not what—shit. I can wait.”

Louis tipped his head and stared at Harry for a moment, considering the other man closely.

“I didn’t mean I can wait to go to your room!” Harry took a deep staggering breath, trying to calm himself down. “Do you wanna?” he scratched at the back his neck, pushing himself to elaborate, “Have coffee?”

Louis studied Harry’s face for a moment, his bright blue eyes flicking up to Harry’s tired green ones. “Well, I don’t usually have coffee with strangers.”

“Oh! God. Yeah...Harry, Harry Styles.” He thrust his hand out, and Louis reached out and grasped his hand firmly. The feel of Louis’ hand in his made Harry tingle all over. His eyes flickered up to Louis’ and he noticed Louis’ bright blue eyes widen just a fraction at the contact.

With their hands still clasped over the hotel table, Louis gave Harry a flirty grin and a soft squeeze of his hand. “Well, it depends. If we have coffee will I get to hear you talk endlessly about how passionate you are about your work like you just did...or?”

Harry exhaled, relieved that he didn’t have to stop talking to the beautiful man in front of him. Relieved that he could listen to him talk awhile more, watch his face, hear him laugh for just awhile more. “If you’re lucky,” he said, with a wink and a final, small shake of the smaller man’s hand.

****

“Right. So here I am, covered in mud, up to my bum in marsh and this kid says...this kid says…” Louis is laughing, full on laughing, his eyes squinched up to small slits and his cheeks pulled back to show perfect little white teeth. The way he laughs is killing Harry. It is the single most endearing thing he has ever seen. “This kid says, ‘but I really wanted to get the algae from over there,’” he finishes with a wide sweep of his hand, pointing at the non-existent swamp in the corner of the coffee shop.

Harry laughed and tried to imagine Louis in waders, smeared with dark brown earth, collecting an algae sample for his students to investigate. And it was so much. So much to imagine him with kids. If Harry had ovaries he’s pretty sure they would be screaming at him right now.

Louis slowly stopped laughing, but the bright smile still remained. “So, tell me more about what you do, Harry. What do you teach?”

Harry nodded and sipped his cooling coffee. “Yeah, kindergarten. At a small public school near my home. It’s uh…”

Louis leaned forward and looked intently into Harry’s eyes. It made Harry forget what he was talking about for a moment. He cleared his throat and crossed his legs, setting his cup back on the small bistro table in front of him. “Yeah. It’s not what I pictured.”

Louis nodded and leaned even closer. “Tell me about it.”

Harry was taken aback by his sincerity, his earnestness. It felt like he really wanted to hear about it. Hear all about Harry’s teaching, his frustrations, his impotency at actually doing all the things he started out wanted to teach for in the first place.

“I mean...I got into teaching because I wanted to make a difference, you know? Wanted to help kids succeed, to feel like they could do anything.”

Louis nodded his head and grinned. Harry got the feeling that Louis knew that feeling, the feeling of wanting to change the world one kid at a time.

“And, like,” Harry continued, afraid he was rambling, but really wanting to get it all out now, share what he was feeling with Louis. Louis, who seemed so interested, and eager, and just _nice_. “I just feel so helpless most of the time. It feels like everytime I think I can do something, something big with my kids, or even one kid, I get held back...there’s some test to take or some kind of data to collect. Or, like...the school runs out of toilet paper!”

Louis laughed but looked sympathetic. Harry wiped at his face, feeling tired again—such a familiar feeling these days.

But, he continued, wanting to express himself since Louis seemed so invested in what he had to say. Harry poured out all the anger and frustration and hurt at not being able to reach his kids the way he wanted to because of the imposed restrictions, learning standards that didn’t always seem to connect to individualized learning, all of the systems and hoops and funding streams...all of it.

And Louis just nodded along and winced as Harry grew more and more animated. He looked like he felt Harry’s pain, like he could actually know what it meant to feel trapped and wanting to do so much more, be so much more. At first Harry felt like he was rambling, but the more he talked, the more he noticed that Louis really seemed to understand...to know and _feel_ what Harry was talking about.

As he finished, Harry finally had the wherewithal to feel embarrassed for a moment. Because here he was just word vomiting to a stranger. Just venting. And god. It felt good. If not a little mortifying.

Louis paused for a moment, leaning back in his chair, sipping his latte before he spoke. “You’re too good for that place,” he said finally, firmly, definitively.

“I’m...what?”

“Too good for that place. Too good for teaching as we know it. Too good for what you are doing.” Louis leaned forward again and pulled one of Harry’s idle hands into two of his own. Harry jolted at the sudden warmth and intimacy of it, but he didn’t pull back. It felt too good, too right, to pull back.

“Look,” Louis continued, “what I mean is that I’ve seen this before, teachers feeling frustrated, like their hands are tied behind their backs.”

Harry banished the image of _him_ with _his_ hands tied behind _his_ back while Louis spoke in that passionate voice of his.

“And,” Louis kept on, as if Harry hadn’t skipped out to fantasy-land for a moment there, “you just need to get out. Get out before you have nothing left to give. Before you forget what it means to be a teacher.”

And that. _That_ was a lot.

That was everything Harry had been feeling, had avoided feeling. It was what he could only admit to himself late at night, alone, exhausted by the day and the prospect of another day ahead. It was like being cleansed. Having someone see inside of him so clearly, so perfectly. So true.

Harry was speechless.

Louis dropped Harry’s hand and waved a delicate hand around and laughed, “But what do I know?”

Harry shook his head clear and pulled Louis’ warm hand back. “No. No. It’s...yeah. That’s how I feel. It’s what I feel. It’s like you...how did you know?”

“Because I’ve been there,” he said simply, running his thumb over Harry’s knuckles, making his pulse speed up.

They held hands in silence for a moment, the connection between them vibrating with Harry’s increased heart rate. For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them, everything else watercolor in their technicolor scene.

It was Louis that broke the silence. “I’ve actually…” he pulled away gently, eyes closing in concentration before he looked back up. “I’ve actually got to go. I’ve got a session to present in, like, ten minutes.” He looked down at his phone, the alarm cutting into their moment of serenity.

“Oh! Right. Sorry to have kept you, I’m…” Harry nervously ran a hand through his hair, shuffling around in his seat to find his backpack. “I’m sorry.”

Louis leaned forward and placed a gentle hand on Harry’s arm, the warmth of his touch searing through the thin flannel of Harry’s shirt. “Don’t apologize. I loved talking with you. In fact…” He squeezed Harry’s arm, a shock of electric energy pulsing between them, “I’d love it if you could meet for dinner?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. Louis was asking him to dinner. Louis was asking him to dinner. The hottest, most passionate, clearly his soulmate, Louis, was asking him to dinner. Harry sputtered, “Yeah. Yes. Sure.”

Louis smirked and stood up. “So that’s a yes, then?”

Harry squinted menacingly. “That’s a yes, smart ass.”

Louis laughed and turned to leave the coffee shop, Harry trailing behind. Harry was sure his ass was swaying just a bit more than it had before. Harry’s eyes couldn’t help but follow it. “Ok then. Me and my smart ass will see you in the lobby at seven.” Louis threw over his shoulder with a charming grin as he turned back toward the conference center.

Harry couldn’t even call out a good-bye. He was hooked. Not much else to say.

****

Harry’s first session of the day was a workshop on how to include more of the arts in early childhood curriculum. The speaker was entertaining and the topic interesting, but for the most part, Harry felt like he couldn’t use the information since so much of the public school curriculum was prescripted.

His second talk after lunch was a discussion about the Every Student Succeeds Act. It sounded like more bureaucratic top-down change that Harry had seen before. He spent that session staring off into space, thinking about the perfect curve of Louis’ jaw and the way his throat bobbed when he drank his coffee. He fantasized a bit about what his scruff would feel like beneath his fingers and what he smelled like. He imagined he smelled like the bitter tang of the earth he spent so much time exploring and something else, something like rain falling on newly unfurled peony petals.

It sort of rendered Harry incapable of doing much else.

The break before the evening networking session gave Harry time to check into his room. It was a nice room, with clean lines done in soft beige and brown and plush pillows lining the head of the bed. Harry dropped his pack in front of the dresser and flopped down on to the bed in an exhausted but exhilarated heap.

For the first time in a long time, Harry felt that rush of excitement that comes with meeting someone new, someone you can’t stop thinking about, can’t stop daydreaming about. It made Harry’s tummy explode in fluttering spirals of nervous energy. Louis was just...something. Something Harry hadn’t experienced in a long time. His passion for his work was inspiring. And the way he talked, moved, looked at Harry...it made Harry’s whole body feel slanted, off-center somehow. Like he couldn’t possibly stand up straight until he was near Louis again.

Which was preposterous. Silly, even.

Harry shook his head as he rolled over on the king-sized bed. He was being stupid. Louis was just a guy. A really good looking, insanely smart and captivating guy, but just a guy. And Harry was another guy. At a professional conference. And after this weekend, they would both go their separate ways and Harry would be just some teacher Louis met at a conference and that would be it.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. The traveling, lack of sleep and the day was catching up with him. He let himself slip under, thinking a short nap would be good. Maybe help him gain some perspective. Let go of his infatuation and be able to focus on the next few days ahead.

****

The harsh ringing of the hotel room phone startled Harry awake. He sat up abruptly, scrambling for the source of the annoying sound. He fumbled with the receiver, dropping back to the pillows as he brought it to his face.

“Hullo?” His voice was slow and throaty from sleep.

“Harry?”

Harry sat up again, head spinning with the movement. “Louis?” he squeaked, Louis’ voice clear and light, like a bright beam in a dark room.

“Yup. It’s me.” Louis sounded amused.

“I’m....um. Wha’ time ’s it?” Harry rubbed at his eyes, the blackout curtains making him unsure of what time it was. He rolled over and looked at the carpet under the windows. Bits of light illuminated the geometric fabric. Well, the sun was up at least.

“It’s seven fifteen.” There was a loud noise on the other end of the line, the sound of people laughing in the background. “I’m in the lobby. Are we still on for dinner?”

Harry was already moving, digging through his pack for a clean shirt—cleanish he hoped—pulling the base of the phone off the end table with a clattering bang. “Sorry. Sorry. Yeah. I’m coming!”

Louis chuckled down the line, making Harry stop and smile. That sound was musical. It made Harry want to try out all of his bad knock knock jokes on him, just to see if he could make him laugh like that again.

“Ok. I’m here. I’ll wait in the bar, yeah?” Harry could hear Louis shuffling, probably getting ready to hang up.

“Yeah. Yes! I’ll be there in a minute.” Harry started digging again. “Just. Ah. Wait for me.”

Louis laughed again, this time more of a giggle. “Don’t worry Harry. I’ll be here.”

Harry stayed on the line a second more, even after Louis had hung up the phone. He smiled again, feeling giddy with the prospect of seeing Louis again. But the moment was short lived as the embarrassment of sleeping past the time of their date pulled him back to reality. Shirt. Clean shirt. Right.

Less than ten minutes later Harry was flying out of the elevator, looking around for the lobby bar, teeth cleaned and relatively clean blue starfish patterned button up shirt hanging from his shoulders. He’d left the top four buttons undone, since he never got to dress like that for work and when he and Niall went out it was usually to Ruby’s and no one there gave a shit about what anyone wore. So. He was glad he’d brought at least one decent shirt.

He ran his hand through his hair, searching for something that said “bar”. To the right of the lobby he saw a gilded sign that said “lounge” so he figured that had to be it. Harry loped his way into the bar and froze when he saw Louis. His back was to the door and he was engaged in what looked like an animated conversation, hands flying about and the woman next to him laughing loudly.

Louis was wearing a black fitted button up shirt and those sinful black leggings, the curve of his ass showing proudly as he leaned against the bar with his hip jutting out. There was something about the frame of his body that made Harry want to crowd him against the bar, press himself to his back, and feel every strong line and curve of the smaller man against him.

Harry needed to get it together.

He walked up to Louis and gently touched Louis’ right hip. Louis melted into his touch as if he were expecting it. “Harry! You made it.” Louis chirped happily, leaning into Harry and pressing a hot kiss to his cheek.

It was cheesy but Harry found himself touching the place where Louis’ lips had brushed up against his skin, as if the action would emblaze the lip prints there permanently.

Louis beamed up at him for a moment and Harry found himself lost in the glittery magic of Louis’ eyes. It felt like looking into a deep blue pool of bright shiny sea. It was unbearably intoxicating. Harry was charmed.

He wondered if Louis felt the same.

“Are you going to introduce us, Louis?”

Harry forced himself to look away from Louis’ sharp gaze and look at the woman next to Louis at the bar.

“Oh! Forgive me. My manners…” Louis apologized, “Helen, Harry. Harry, Helen.”

Harry extended his hand and shook the slim woman’s well-manicured hand. He arched an eyebrow at Louis. Louis recovered quickly. “Helen is the director of giving at the Gates Foundation. She and I were just discussing my award for a kindergarten program next year.”

“Your _possible_ award,” Helen corrected.

Louis waved his hand around. “Possible. Probable. We both know what’s happening here, Helen.”

Helen laughed, charmed like everyone else by Louis’ quick wit and affable character. “Right. Probable. Probably.”

Louis nodded his head, pleased, as Harry shifted from foot to foot feeling like he interrupted something important.

Helen took a long sip from her drink, draining the cup through red painted lips. “Just make those changes we talked about and I’m sure we can make that probable a definite, OK?”

Louis smiled, the confident curve of his lips pushing his cheeks back into soft plush pillows on his face. It was contagious, Harry smiling despite himself.

“Of course, Helen, of course. Thanks for the drink.” Louis voice was suddenly serious, business-like. Harry felt even more attracted to him, if that was possible.

Helen smiled and leaned forward air kissing Louis and giving him a squeeze at his left shoulder. “Good.” She pulled away and glanced from Louis to Harry. “Have a good dinner, boys.”

Harry watched her walk away and turned back to Louis, finding him looking directly at him. He found himself pulled into the vortex of Louis’ smile, the warmth in his eyes. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nah,” Louis said, “You came at just the right time. Helen is one of our biggest funders. I was pretty sure that we got that grant, just sealing the deal.”

Harry nodded, amazed at Louis’ confidence. “For a kindergarten, you said?”

“Oh right. You’re a kindergarten man. Yeah…for a kindergarten. My vision is to expand Earth School eventually through eighth grade. One grade at a time, you know?”

Louis pushed his glass back and turned toward Harry, folding his arms across his chest, toes touching Harry’s through the leather of their shoes. “Helen loves me. Loves what we’re doing. It’s just a matter of putting things in the right context.”

Harry nodded again, feeling like that was all he was capable of doing around Louis, agreeing with every word that fell from his mouth.

“What do you think? Dinner?” Louis’ voice broke Harry out of his daydream about Louis’ mouth and the perfect way he spoke and how every word sounded like it was made for Harry’s ears.

Harry was starting to think that this infatuation was maybe a bit more than a crush. He was seriously getting turned on by Louis. Not just the way he looked—which was really fucking hot—but also by the way his quick mind worked. Harry wanted to learn more from him, get to know more about him through his intricate thoughts and ideas.

Louis nudged at Harry’s foot with his own, smirking as he did so. Harry shook his head, snapping out of his inner thought and focusing on the here and now; on Louis. “Dinner.”

Harry followed Louis from the bar outside into the waning light of Seattle dusk. Louis effortless chatted with the doorman and managed to get them a taxi. Harry was content to follow, letting Louis take the lead, ready to go wherever Louis took them.

It turned out to be a small seafood restaurant near the wharf. It looked upscale and classic, not really trendy like most restaurants in this part of the city seemed. Harry was glad for the nicer shirt, but equally as glad that it wasn’t the kind of place a tie seemed to be required.

The cab ride over was quiet, Louis apologizing for having to answer a few emails on his phone while Harry watched the city go by. Once at the restaurant and ensconced in their tiny little booth at the back of the restaurant, Louis put his phone away and told Harry, “I’m all yours.”

Harry’s heart flipped at that and really, really hoped that could be true. He laughed nervously and looked back at the wine list. When he looked back up Louis was still looking at him. Louis smiled warmly.

“So, how were your sessions?”

Harry paused and wondered what Louis was talking about before he realized that, yeah, they were at a conference. “Oh. Yeah. My sessions were…ok.”

Louis frowned and cocked his head sideways. “Just ok?”

“Well, yeah. I mean. These things, conferences, they’re all about these great ideas and this information, right? Stuff that’s supposed to help us be better teachers, be better at our jobs. And, well. Today was just…like I can’t really do much with it. I mean. My hands are tied. There’s only so much you can do with publicly funded education.”

Louis nodded his head, eyes fixed on Harry’s face while he talked. He was leant forward, body open and completely engrossed by Harry and the slow but impassioned way he spoke. “Yeah, that’s why I got out,” he said, pulling his napkin down to his lap. “I felt myself getting burnt out and I was approached by someone about this idea to start a private nature-type school and I just...leaped.”

“Leaped?” Harry questioned, eyebrows quirking up, hands stilling over his own napkin.

“Yeah. Leaped. Leapt. Whatever you want to call it. I just needed a change and did it. I started out with a small seed grant to do the planning. A wealthy guy in Seattle had left this parcel of land to this educational development group and they needed someone to figure out how to start this new kind of school.” Louis took a sip of water, his face flushed as he got more and more excited. “And I didn’t know a soul—literally no one in Seattle. No one. It was scary. But honestly the best thing I’ve ever done.”

He leaned back a little, rubbing a hand over the scruff on his face, his blue eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Now we have two pre-k groups and it looks like we’ll be starting a kindergarten next year. I have so many plans for Earth School, Harry. I really do. Just can’t wait to make it all happen.”

Louis’ enthusiasm was contagious. Harry found himself fantasizing about what it would be like that to feel that kind of passion, excitement, for teaching again. It was a distant feeling, far away from where he was today in his professional practice.

“What would you do, Harry, if you could change things? Change the way you teach?” Louis said quietly.

Harry’s breath hitched at that. What would he do? What wouldn’t he do? “I’d…” he rolled his bottom lip between two fingers and said, “I’d have fewer kids to start with. And I’d have a completely integrated curriculum, probably use the project approach. And I’d only use authentic assessment, right? Like portfolios, and pictures and dictations…And I’d, well I’d…I’d be able to listen to my kids, you know? Hear what they say and do something about it, you know?”

Louis nodded slowly, reaching across to squeeze Harry’s wrist. Harry felt his thumb graze across the inside of it and he suppressed the chill that raced up his arm.

“Yeah. I know.” Louis said quietly, releasing Harry’s arm, leaving him with a sense of loss. “You can do anything you want you know.”

Harry stared at him for a minute. Because, yeah, when Louis said it it almost seemed possible.

“Right,” he scoffed.

“What do you mean ‘right’? Brilliant guy like you…” Louis’ voice went up an octave or so and he leaned forward again, his blue eyes dancing across Harry’s face.

Harry smirked, knowing Louis was flirting. So he decided to flirt right back. “Well, we can’t all be as brilliant as you, you know. Or good looking. Or genuine. Or…” Harry stopped, because he was doing it again. “Um...Yeah,” he said, desperate for a train to hit or an earthquake to strike or something to keep him from putting his foot any further in his mouth.

Thank God the waitress walked up then and asked what they’d have to drink.

Louis was staring at Harry, a look of bemusement on his face. He cleared his throat before glancing down at the wine list again. “Ok if I order us a bottle?” he asked.

“Um, sure.”

“White ok?”

“Yeah. That’s great.” Harry caught the way Louis’ eyes smiled in unison with his mouth, the beauty of his face completely pure and light in the dim restaurant.

Louis ordered them a bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and returned the wine list to the server. After she walked away Louis turned back to Harry, the intensity of his gaze made Harry feel transparent, almost like Louis could see what he was feeling, _hear_ his thoughts.

Harry swallowed, because right now, at this moment, he was thinking that Louis was really hot when he took charge. Even something as small as ordering a bottle of wine was done with such finesse, such control; it made Harry feel like he wanted Louis to turn that control, that power, toward him. Harry wanted to feel what it would be like to be with Louis, intimately, while Louis was in charge like that.

A zip of arousal swirled its way up Harry’s spine and he felt something stir in his pants.

“Any idea what you want?” Louis’ voice made Harry focus.

“What? What I want?” Harry said, shaky, not clear at all on what Louis was referring to.

“To eat.” Louis grinned, opening his menu.

Harry felt his cheeks begin to flush. To eat. Of course. Not…any of that other stuff. No. That would be ridiculous. To eat. Focus.

Harry opened his menu and looked over the selection. After a moment he snapped the menu closed. “I think I’ll have the sea bass.”

“Good choice.” Louis said, closing his own menu.

“And you? What will you have?” Harry fiddled with the cloth napkin that was rolled neatly next to his place setting. He unfurled it and placed it on his lap, across his denim covered legs.

“Hm. I think I’ll go with the shrimp and pasta.”

Harry nodded, already lost in thoughts of Louis’ mouth pursed around a forkful of slippery noodles. He had to change this train of thought. Like now.

“So tell me about Earth School. What’s it like to teach like that?”

“It’s...It’s…” Louis pondered the question, a faraway dreamy look taking over his face. It reminded Harry of how his sister looked when she talked about her kids, or how his mom looked when she talked about her patients at the hospital. “I mean. It’s like a dream come true.”

Harry smiled, just because Louis was smiling. It was one of those things he couldn’t help doing even if he tried. Seeing Louis happy, beaming, in fact, made Harry happy. By association or something.

“Yeah. It’s amazing. We have this land with marsh, and fields and forests and there is so much to be learned in nature. And we follow a very loose curriculum that’s super child-centered, and…” Louis proceeded to talk about his life’s work, sharing stories about the kids in the program and the eclectic group of teachers. They were a small team right now, four teachers, an administrator and a chef, but Louis had a lot of different plans for expansion.

Harry listened intently while Louis talked about the curriculum, the families that had chosen Earth School for their kids, the grant work Louis did, the charity work he was involved in…as Louis talked Harry felt transported into lush green forests and wide open fields of spring green grass and canopies of ivy and flower scented breezes.

It sounded like a fairy tale.

When Harry told Louis as much, over dessert—cheesecake for Harry, sorbet for Louis—Louis just laughed. “It is. It is a fairy tale. Come to life.”

Harry smiled at that, thinking that Louis was like a fairy godfather or a pixie or a sprite or something. Granting magical wishes in the forest, prancing about, leading children in dance. Maybe he’d had too much wine.

“What do you think Harry? Would you ever leave where you are? Just move somewhere for a job? A dream? Some people think I’m crazy,” Louis said, startling Harry from his thoughts.

Harry thought about it, sipping the last of the second bottle that they’d shared. “I dunno. I mean. I went to that school. The one where I teach. I always thought I was meant to end up there. Some of the teachers that are still there taught _me_ when I was a kid.”

Louis laughed at that and picked up his glass. Harry tried, and failed, not to get distracted by the way Louis’ lips pursed around the edge of the fine crystal glass. They were so pink and shiny and soft looking. Just like the rest of Louis.

“I’ve never gone very far from where I am.” Harry admitted, worrying somewhere in the back of his mind that he sounded like an unsophisticated country bumpkin, where Louis seemed so much more worldly, adventurous.

“What would it take for you to leave it all?” Louis’ voice had gone dark, the sound of it wrapping around Harry like cashmere in their intimate corner of the restaurant.

“Something spectacular,” Harry murmured, draining his glass, but never letting his eyes move from Louis’. There was something electric passing between them. Harry was pretty sure it was more than the wine.

Louis leaned across the table, drawing a finger up the inside of Harry’s arm. “You’re really pretty.”

Harry sputtered, dropping his fork against the china plate as he let out a decidedly _un-pretty_ snort. “Pretty?”

“Yeah. Pretty. And smart.” Louis’ slurred a little, not quite drunk but happily tipsy, although Harry didn’t think the slur was from the drink. Harry could see a soft pinkish flush against Louis’ skin and his lips were still really fucking distracting. Shiny and wet.

“Y—you too.”

Louis smirked. “Wanna get out of here?”

Harry watched the smaller man look over Harry’s face, settling on his lips and then roaming back to his eyes. It made Harry flush with heat. And arousal. And something more. Something akin to intense longing. Like wanting something for ages and finally, finally getting it in your grasp. So close you could almost taste it.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, sure that he’d go anywhere Louis asked him to.

Louis smiled wider and adjusted the collar of his shirt, gesturing for the server to bring the check.

“I’ve got it,” Louis said, pulling the leather billfold closer to him.

“Louis. No. At least let me pay half.” Harry pouted.

“Absolutely not. I asked you. I’m paying.” There was a certain finality in Louis’ voice that reminded Harry of that rush he felt when Louis had ordered the wine earlier. There was something commanding and sure about Louis’ voice like that, so different than its usual light, teasing tone or even more serious, passionate tone he used when talking about his work. It felt like stirring cocoa into a cup of hot milk, dark and rich, full of promise and seduction.

It was startling how turned on Harry got from it.

The evening was still young and Harry felt like he needed to do something. _Anything_. He was pretty sure Louis was into him, and he wanted to know just how far he was willing to go. Harry wasn’t a one night stand kind of guy, most of the time. But he was willing to make an exception for Louis. Even though he’d very much like more than one night. Or day. He’d take whatever he could get with Louis.

For now that meant getting Louis back to the hotel. For something. _Anything_.

Louis called a cab and Harry watched the way his ass flexed under the fabric of his jeggings. Harry ran a tongue over his lips and held his hands in loose fists at his sides, to keep himself from reaching out and touching. Harry had been half hard throughout dinner, the conversation and tone in Louis’ voice turning him on just as much as Louis’ handsome face and delicate hands, flying about in the air between them. Now, with just the hint of the possibility that Louis was interested in him, he was well on his way to fully hard. Not a really a good thing, given the tightness of his own jeans and how little they would hide.

Harry crawled into the cab behind Louis. Feeling the effects of the wine as he bounced in his seat, Harry pressed his leg against Louis’, the heat of his body spreading over his own. Louis gave the cabbie instructions and Harry pulled at the hem of his shirt, toying with it in an effort to stop thinking about how hard his cock was getting and how good Louis smelled (he was right—-he smelled like something earthy and light, like floral springtime and musky rain hitting parched earth).

“Harry?” Louis whispered, leaning into Harry’s space, his warm breath tickling the skin on Harry’s sensitive neck.

Harry rolled his head to the side, smiling as he focused on Louis’ blue blue eyes, the dark lashes framing them like a work of art. He was so, so beautiful. Harry really wanted to kiss him right now. “Hm?”

“I never do this.”

Harry sat up a bit and turned in his seat toward Louis. “What?”

“You know.” He tilted his head side to side. “This. Like, pick someone up at a conference.”

Harry laughed out loud, the loud braying startling the cabbie as he turned a corner. “Sorry. Sorry.”

“Don’t laugh at me. I’m being honest. I don’t want you to think this is a regular thing for me. I’m sort of…one of those serial monogamists…or whatever.”

Harry laughed again, although quieter this time. “Serial? What?”

Louis smiled but plastered a fake pout on his face. It was adorable. He swatted at Harry’s arm and said, “I mean it. I’m being honest. I don’t do this.”

Harry stopped laughing, a giggle getting caught in his throat. “What? You’re like being serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. I’d very much like to _pick you up_ . Or do whatever it is the kids call it these day. I’m attracted to you. You’re smart. And gorgeous and I’m like _into_ you. So yeah.” Harry noticed the flush rise up Louis’ neck and cover his face. It was such a difference from the cool and in charge persona he’d seen from him so far.

“Hey. Hey. I’m like…yeah. I’d like that. Let’s… _yeah_.” Harry ran his hand over Louis’ thigh, noting the ridge of muscle and the way his skin jumped under the fabric of his jeans. “And, like, who cares if it’s a first for you, or me, we probably won’t ever see each other again, so we can...you know? Whatever we want. For tonight.” Harry studied Louis’ profile.

Louis tilted his head and rested it on Harry’s shoulder. He whispered against Harry’s neck. “What if we both wanted to?”

Harry felt his heart hammering in his chest. “Wanted to what?”

“Do this again? Have more than one night?” Louis’ voice had gone deeper, lower and was barely louder than a whisper. It traveled right to Harry’s groin, his erection back to full attention.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” The two of them looked at each other for a long moment; Louis was close enough that Harry could see green swimming beneath the blue of his eyes as the streetlights flashed intermittently inside the car. Harry gulped. Through the quickly fading buzz of alcohol, Harry could feel anticipation building beneath his skin. He could also feel a rush of relief. And now, now that Louis had said what Harry had been feeling, Harry couldn’t _wait_ to get back to the hotel.

Louis dropped his hand to Harry’s thigh, their arms criss-crossed like an X between them. Harry felt Louis’ fingers dig into the inside of his upper thigh and his cock twitched. Harry hadn’t felt like this about someone in a long time. This intense quick fire need to talk, to learn, to touch.

“Did I hear you say this was a first for you?” Louis whispered.

“Yeah. I never do this either.”

Louis’ eyes flickered down to Harry’s mouth and Harry watched his pink tongue swipe over his glistening lips. Harry could feel Louis’ breath ghosting over his own mouth, he could taste the kiss already, the heady scent of fruity alcohol and garlic from Louis’ dinner mingling with his own wine-laced breath.

Just as Harry was beginning to lean toward Louis, his body being pulled into the orbit of Louis’, the cab turned into the long drive of the hotel. “We’re here.”

Harry looked into Louis’ eyes and saw the smile creep over his face as the car rolled to a stop. Louis dug around in his pockets for some cash and paid the driver and left the cab with a polite thanks. Harry scrambled out of the car after Louis, sensing a trend, once again, that he’d follow Louis wherever he went.

They walked purposefully to the bank of elevators at the far end of the lobby. Punching the up button Louis looked at Harry. “What floor are you on?”

“Sixteen,” Harry breathed out, adjusting his pants to hide his hard cock.

“I’m closer. Ten.” Louis walked through the open set of doors and punched in the number ten, glancing at Harry’s crotch as he backed into the elevator. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, inching alongside Harry, making room for additional passengers.

Harry could feel Louis’ body moving in tiny jittery motions, the bump of his arms and hips making Harry feel like he was hurtling toward something undeniable, bigger than the two of them. Something he couldn’t even begin to understand.

The elevator opened and Louis pulled Harry out, dragging him down the hall with a firm grip on his hand. Harry barely had a moment to register the jolt that the touch triggered, before Louis was sliding his key into the lock and pushing the door open. Harry followed him inside and found that the room was nearly identical to his own. Same king sized bed. Same neutral palette. Same cool, dry air.

“Something to drink?” Louis said, nerves jangling in his voice.

“I’m good.” Harry replied, crowding Louis into the space between the bed and the desk.

“Yeah? Could you be better?”

Harry bit his lip as the husky register of Louis’ voice rolled over his skin. Harry tilted his head. “Could be a lot better.”

Louis looked up at Harry and fuck if his eyes weren’t completely gone. Lust spanned Louis’ face: everything from his wet lips and pink skin and wide hazy eyes. Harry could bathe in the way Louis looked right now and probably feel sated. “Yeah?”

Harry framed Louis’ body with his hands against the wall, pushing a leg between Louis’, looming over him, practically covering the smaller man like a blanket. He shoved his leg hard against him, head spinning from the sound Louis let out from the back of his throat. “Much better.”

Louis responded by surging and capturing Harry’s mouth in a heated kiss. Louis moaned into the kiss and pulled Harry closer by the hips as their tongues slipped alongside each other in a twisting melodic rhythm. Harry let himself be pulled into the warmth and plush give of Louis’ body, his leg pressing up against Louis’—thank god he had one too—erection. Louis rocked into the pressure of Harry’s leg, bringing sweet friction to Harry’s own hard-on trapped in his jeans.

“Really, I never do this.” Louis panted as Harry’s mouth and tongue traveled down his jaw to his neck. Harry unbuttoned a few buttons on the Louis’ shirt and continued kissing and mouthing over his sweet-salty skin, trailing little nips and presses of fevered lips over Louis’ prominent collar bones.

“I know. So you said.” Harry let his hands roam down the wall, dropping them to the warm firmness of Louis’ body underneath him. He skimmed eager hands over Louis’ sides, pressing him into the wall so that he could push their bodies even closer together.

Louis gripped Harry’s ass then, making Harry gasp and stutter his movements. Louis used the leverage to push away from the wall and shove Harry toward the bed. “But now that we are doing this, we are doing it my way. Ok?”

Harry felt pre-come dampen his jeans.

Louis ripped off his shirt and dispensed of his jeans and underwear in two quick fluid movements. Harry moaned when he saw the man in front of him, fully naked and presented to him. All his for the taking.

“Undress. Now,” Louis demanded.

Something dormant inside of Harry stirred. He swallowed thickly but did as he was told, quickly pulling his loose shirt over his head. He kicked off his boots, lifted his hips off the bed and pushed his jeans down to his knees. His erection slapped against his tummy, full and heavy. He scooted backwards toward the head of the bed, propping himself up against the pillows.

“No underwear?” Louis quirked an eyebrow, the side of his mouth following suit.

“Packed in a hurry,” Harry wrapped a loose fist around his length, groaning at the sensation. “Didn’t bring any.”

Louis started to crawl up Harry’s body, stopping short of rubbing his cock against Harry’s hip. “Just because I never do this, doesn’t mean I’m not going to wreck you.” Louis spoke in a low, deep tone that traveled straight through Harry.

Harry shivered, despite the light sheen of sweat on his body. He nodded and pulled Louis on top of him, crying out at the feeling of Louis’ erection sliding along his own. “Yes. God, yes.”

Louis shushed him and held himself up with his forearms, the muscle bulging over Harry’s face and shoulders. Harry gripped Louis’ arms and opened his mouth to him, letting him take over, take whatever he wanted. He wanted to give it all to him. Everything Louis wanted he could have.

Louis kissed Harry like he talked, full of passion and conviction, the intensity full and complete, leaving Harry breathless and whining, arching his hips up into Louis’, rocking into him with the need for more. “I’ve got you. It’s ok, I’ve got you,” Louis whispered into Harry’s hair. “But first I have to see if what I predicted is true.”

Harry blinked and breathed out through his nose, body trembling slightly with desire. “What? If what’s true.”

“That mouth of yours. I bet it’s really _really_ good at blow jobs, yeah? Isn’t that right, gorgeous? Bet you can suck a cock like nothing else in this world. Am I right? That mouth of yours is fucking obscene. Need to feel it around my cock, Harry. You ok with that? Gonna make me feel good? And then I’ll make you feel good, yeah?”

Louis babbled, pecking wet kisses over Harry’s face and down his body, stopping to suck at a nipple, bite at a ridge of abdomen muscle, lick over a sweat soaked divot of flesh and sinew. Harry couldn’t stop writhing, couldn’t stop moving, Louis’ voice like a conductor, orchestrating his every movement, every wriggle of hips and sigh of breath.

“Yes, yeah. Want to. Please let me suck your cock, Louis. _Please_.” Harry wasn’t beyond begging, because now that Louis had said it, had put the words out there, Harry couldn’t stop himself from getting his mouth on Louis’ body, on Louis’ cock, to be specific. He could almost taste him on his tongue.

“Shh. It’s ok. Gonna give you what you need, ok gorgeous boy? Gonna give it to for as long as you want it. Just…” He shimmied his way up and over Harry’s face, positioning the head of his cock just over Harry’s bottom lip. Harry caught a drop of salty pre-come with the tip of his tongue. He moaned loudly at the taste of it, wanting more.

_Needing_ more.

Louis grabbed on to the headboard and fed his dick into Harry’s wide open, waiting mouth. Harry let out a long muffled groan at the feel, the taste, of it. His hands flew up to grip each side of Louis’ ass, the firm handfuls soft and pliable under his fingertips. He squeezed hard, drawing a low whine from Louis and a stutter of his hips, his hard dick jerking forward quickly.

Harry gagged a little from the sudden intrusion of Louis’ cock in his throat. Louis pulled out, looking down at Harry, concern etched over his fine features. “Sorry—you ok?”

Harry nodded and pushed Louis forward by his bum. “I like it,” he said, cheeks flaming in embarrassment. “You can, like, gag me a bit. I like it.”

“Fuck,” Louis whispered, tucking his fingers into Harry’s hair as he crouched down to look Harry in the eyes. “What a fucking gift you are.” 

Harry preened at the compliment and closed his eyes and opened his mouth wide, gripping Louis firmly by the bum. Louis groaned and pushed forward, tapping at the back of Harry’s throat, making it protest, but he kept the gag quiet. Harry hummed, knowing that it had to feel amazing around Louis’ dick, and swirled his tongue as much as he could with his mouth stuffed full of cock.

Louis’ hips halted for a moment before he resumed building up a fluid rhythm. He rocked his hips forward and back as Harry slurped and chased his hardness with his tongue. Louis pulled out of Harry’s mouth, fucking back harshly as he sped up his rhythm. Harry knew he would pay for this in the morning, probably hardly be able to speak, but fuck if it didn’t feel amazing to have Louis use him like this. His own cock twitched and dripped pre-come over his belly at the sensation of it all.

Harry opened his eyes to find Louis staring down at him beneath his dark eyelashes, sweat soaked hair clinging to his forehead, mouth open in ecstasy. “Can you take it, Harry? Can you swallow my load, baby?”

****Harry nodded his head, careful to sheath his teeth from Louis’ slowing thrusts.

“Ok, darling, ok. Gonna come soon, real soon. Keep doing what you’re doing and then I’ll make you feel so good. Gonna make you feel so good.” Louis resumed his shaky thrusts, Harry could feel his legs trembling around him, could feel how close he was. Harry doubled his efforts, pushing up into each thrust forward and gagging slightly at the rough feeling in his throat as the head of Louis’ dick shoved in harder, faster, deeper. His eyes streamed and his mouth ached but he wanted Louis to come down his throat more than anything.

He pressed his fingers deeper into Louis’ crack, sliding one finger down so it could brush over Louis’ entrance. He didn’t push inside, just brushed a dry finger over the taut, quivering skin there. And that’s what did it. That’s what drove Louis over the edge. Louis keened, high and loud and shoved his hips forward with a stilted jerk, stilling as he spilled inside Harry’s open mouth, come pouring down his throat as Harry worked to swallow what he could.

“Oh god. Oh god,” Louis moaned over and over, slowly slipping in and out of Harry’s mouth as he rode out his high. Harry lay there, limp and happy, the taste of Louis heavy and bitter inside his mouth and throat, as he took the last of Louis’ pleasure from his body and absorbed it into his own.

Louis flopped down on top of Harry, driving a pained groan from Harry as Louis’ wet, still half-hard cock jostled his own nearly painful erection.

“ _Harry_. Fuck. Let me catch my breath and then I’ll…” Louis exhaled and kissed Harry’s neck, and around the shell of his ear, his breathing harsh and rough, making Harry squirm underneath him. He needed release soon or he thought he might spontaneously come.

Louis must have realized the urgency in Harry’s twitching limbs so he pushed himself off the bed and wobbled over to his suitcase on the sofa. Harry watched him rummage around and admired the curve of his back and the way his muscular thighs flexed with movement. As he walked slowly back to the bed, a bottle of lube in hand, he stopped a foot away from Harry and looked up and back down his body.

“Do you even know how beautiful you are?”

Harry moaned and thrust his hips up into the empty air, his cock nearly standing upright from his body, he was so hard. He rolled his hips as Louis put one knee up on the bed, silently begging for anything to bring him relief. Silent, because he couldn’t seem to find words at the moment, he was so delirious with desire.

“Shh. I’ve got you. Can I finger you? Wanna get my fingers inside you, Harry. So bad. Wanna fuck you with my fingers until you make a mess of yourself. Wanna hear you come…” Harry absently thought that this must be a thing for Louis, this dirty talk, and he couldn’t complain. It was slowly driving him wild.

Louis maneuvered Harry over to his stomach after Harry nodded his assent. Harry hissed at the feeling of the crisp cotton sheets rubbing under his erection. He immediately arched his back and thrust his ass up into the air. He felt hot breath at the base of his spine followed by swirling licks of a hot, wet tongue. Groaning, Harry dropped his head down onto his arms and turned to look back at Louis.

Louis’ hair was a mess of feathery brown wisps around his head and his eyes were still soft and unfocused. He looked completely debauched. Harry felt a shiver crawl over his skin as the air conditioning came on. Louis chose that moment to press a wet finger to his hole. Harry pushed backward until he felt Louis’ finger breach his entrance. Louis dribbled more lube over Harry’s crack and hole. He pushed his finger in slowly, pulling a tortured whine from Harry’s lungs.

Stilling, Louis said, “Ok?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just. Need you.” Harry moaned brokenly, the sensation of Louis filling him, even this little bit, just too much. But not enough at the same time.

Louis smirked as Harry turned away, dropping his forehead back down to his arms below. Then he expertly began moving inside Harry, twisting his finger inside and crooking up, searching, seeking that place inside Harry that could incapacitate him. Slowly, surely, Louis pushed his finger in and out of Harry’s body until he had loosened up. Then he added a second, spreading them slightly to make room for the intrusion. He didn’t add a third.

“One day, hopefully soon, I’m going to fuck you Harry. And you are going to look so beautiful underneath me. So fucking beautiful. I bet you look like a dream when you come, don’t you pretty boy? God, I can’t wait to fuck this pretty hole and feel you around my cock like this…fuck. You feel so good. So good.” Louis voice was fevered and rough as he started to fuck into Harry a bit faster now that he was opened more.

On one particularly deep thrust, Louis pushed against Harry’s spot, making Harry arch his back and moan loud and deep. “Again. _Again_.”

Louis bit down at the meatiest part of Harry’s ass and tried to replicate the movement. Faster he fingered him, finding Harry’s spot more often than not, bringing Harry quickly to the edge.

Harry cried out and clenched down virtually trapping Louis’ skilled fingers inside him, pressed against his prostate, Louis wriggling against it as much as he could in the tight space. Harry’s cock jerked and released all over his belly and the bed beneath him. Louis continued to pulse against the sensitive little bundle, pushing Harry deeper and deeper into release.

Seeing white explosions of heat and light behind his eyelids, Harry called out Louis’ name and let his entire body go, releasing himself to Louis and his hands and his words and his beautiful poetic way of seeing the world. He felt himself melding into one with the man behind him and could practically taste the way his life _felt_ and _looked_ , in the wide open world. Harry collapsed on the mattress and felt Louis pull his fingers out of his body. He heard him walk and go to the bathroom to collect a washcloth. Harry inhaled deep shuddery breaths, imagining himself flying high above a classroom of earth and sky and water and life in every imaginable corner.

Louis gently turned him over and cleaned him up, pulling the sheet down over the mess on the fitted sheet. He tossed the washcloth toward the bathroom and pulled Harry close, covering him with the top sheet. “Jesus. You are really something.”

Harry hummed and snuggled in closer, inhaling Louis’ rich scent and letting the warmth and afterglow of sex envelope them. Louis’ body was warm and soft and Harry felt like he could melt.

“Can you stay?” Louis murmured into his hair.

“Never gonna leave,” Harry purred.

It was quiet for a minute until Harry realized that he basically just affirmed that he was ridiculous and assumed that Louis would want him here. Not just tonight, but forever.

Harry was still in Louis’ arms, holding his breath, mind racing for something to say to recover from his post-sex overshare.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Louis said quietly, running soft hands over Harry’s bare back and back up his sides. He brought their lips together in a gentle, warm kiss. To Harry if felt like truth. If felt like something he could hold on to.

****

The sound of squeaky wheels and plates bumping against cutlery is what woke Harry up. He rolled over, feeling more well-rested and peaceful than he had in a long time. He could just make out the sound of Louis talking to someone at the door as the smell of bacon and maple syrup filled the room.

Sitting up, pulling the sheet around his waist, Harry glanced around. There were clothes strewn about and evidence of their shared night covering the small space. The sun eked its way through the small crack in the curtains and Harry saw that the clock read half past nine.

“Hungry?” Louis entered the room with a sheepish smile.

“Starved,” Harry replied, beaming back at him. Louis was wearing a rumpled Green Peace t-shirt and short running shorts. His hair was sleep mussed and his eyes were soft and calm.

“Good. I think I ordered one of everything.”

They laughed as Harry inched off the bed, still clinging to the sheet. “Um...can I? Do you have like a pair of shorts or something?” The idea of putting his tight jeans on while overindulging in a big breakfast did not appeal to him at the moment.

“Oh right! Yeah...let me just…” Louis moved around the room service table, large enough to take up most of the free space in the room, and went to his suitcase. He pulled out a pair of boxer briefs and tossed them to Harry. “Since you forgot all yours.”

Harry chuckled and pulled the shorts on quickly, feeling shy in the bright light of morning. Louis turned away and set about uncovering the food.

“Christ. You really did order one of everything!” Harry laughed, sliding into the chair Louis pulled out from the desk for him.

There was an array of breakfast foods, everything from an omelette to oatmeal to waffles and fresh fruit. Harry spied croissants and a large plate of bacon and sausage and what looked like coffee and tea.

“Wasn’t sure what you’d like,” Louis offered, looking at the huge amount of food in front of them.

“Like it all,” Harry murmured, leaning toward Louis with his lips pursed. Louis met him halfway and pecked him softly on the mouth. They stayed like that for a second, eyes locked, Louis’ brushed teeth breath mingling with Harry’s morning breath. It felt pure and so, so right to Harry. “Thank you.”

Louis blushed and backed up a little. “Well, let’s eat!” he proclaimed, making Harry giggle again.

They dug into the food, filling their plates with a little bit of everything. Harry poured himself a cup of coffee and Louis had tea. The ate for a few minutes in comfortable silence, both of them needing the sustenance after their night together. Harry’s mind wandered to what last night meant, if anything at all, to Louis. He wasn’t all that familiar with one night stand protocol and he really, really hoped that Louis felt like he did...like it was much more than just a one night thing.

Harry was helping himself to another serving of fruit when Louis said, “So we should probably talk about last night, yeah?”

Harry looked up, startled by the intensity in Louis’ sharp blue eyes. It was as if he could see into the dark corners of Harry’s mind, see the questions and the doubts that were starting to wreak havoc with the peace that had shrouded him upon waking.

“Yeah, probably.” Harry said, placing his fork down on the table, next to his plate.

“So, we both said we never do this kind of thing, right?”

“Right.”

“And, like, there’s no rules, right?” Louis drummed his fingers on the table, almost like the movement was helping keep him focused.

Harry smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Right. No rules.” He liked the direction this was heading in.

“So, like. This doesn’t have to be a one time thing, right?”

Harry smiled again, the sound of Louis’ voice making him feel like floating, drifting away on a maple-scented cloud of eager happiness. “No. It doesn’t. Doesn’t have to be a one time thing.”

“Good. So. That’s settled.” Louis looked down at his lap, hiding a smile that had burst from his face like sunbeams. “But there’s something else...something I think we should make sure we are clear about.”

Harry frowned, racking his brain for whatever Louis could be getting at. “Something else?”

Louis leaned forward, seeking out Harry’s eyes. Harry squirmed a little at what he saw. There was a ferocity in the deep blue that made Harry’s heart race.

“So, I’m not usually so controlling with my partners. In bed,” Louis offered in a soft voice.

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” Harry wanted to see where this was going.

“It’s just that you...you do something to me Harry. I want to like...you were _so.._.I just wanted to kind of control things. Control you, I mean.” Louis was quiet but clear, leaving no room for doubt about what he was saying.

“You mean like a dom/sub thing?” Harry reached out and took Louis’ hand in his.

Louis swallowed and ran his thumb over the back of Harry’s hand. “Well, kind of? Not like in a huge way...just like. Yeah. You kind of drive me crazy.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. And his dick started to perk up too.

“Is that weird to say? I mean, is it too soon?” Louis searched Harry’s eyes.

“No! God, no! Not at all. I mean, I feel the same way? And like, I’ve never really been submissive? Not like I felt last night. I just. Yeah. I liked it. I liked it with you.”

Louis smiled, bright and genuine. “Me too.”

Harry squeezed Louis’ hand and pulled away, feeling content and more settled. “So, what’s next?”

Louis smirked, tearing off a piece of croissant. “I guess we figure out how many airline miles I have.”

Harry tilted his head, a teasing lilt in his voice as he said, “Or see if you can talk as dirty as you did last night over the phone? You always that talkative?”

Louis laughed loud at that. “Oh God.” He buried his face in his hands.

Harry bit his lip and lifted his brows, contemplating his words. “Or maybe we can see how Seattle looks on me?”

The bright sun crept into the room just then, illuminating it with a warm honey gold haze that seemed to wash over the two men sitting at the small table. To Harry it felt perfect. Felt like a laying down on a soft warm bed after a long day or slipping into a hot bath.

It felt like it was meant to be.

****

The sun slanted through the trees in vertical beams of amber and yellow light. It cast soft shadows around the cool clearing, the early spring air still just this side of too cold. But the sun, the sun warmed Harry right to his bones. Right along with the huge smiles of the children gathered in a semicircle around him.

“So, this is what happens when the sun doesn’t reach the grass in this part of the forest. Why do you think that is?” Harry looked around at the eager faces, watching as understanding dawned on several of them all at once.

“Oh! I know!” Sarah jumped up, clapping a hand over her mouth, remembering the rule about raising your hand.

“It’s ok, Sarah. Why do you think?”

“Because the grass needs sunlight to grow and those weeds don’t need as much. In fact,” she paused, catching her breath, “Mr. Louis said that those weeds—the one with the little white flowers—can grow practically anywhere. Even inside a toilet if you threw a little dirt in it!”

Harry giggled a little at that, because of course Louis would say that. But it was true.

He was so proud of Sarah. She’d come a long way since her parents divorced earlier this year. She still had a difficult time with changes and would cling to Harry when things were new or different, but she’d really done a good job coming out of her shell. It was the kind of situation that made teaching so rewarding for Harry; getting to be a part of something bigger than just helping kids learn letters and numbers. He was getting to be a part of their lives, and their self-esteem. It was everything.

The rest of the kids laughed and picked at the small white flowers to examine them more closely.

“So, what do you think? Should we take some of these back to the barn? Check them out under the scopes?” Harry started to rise, hearing the tractor around the curve, heading toward them on the dirt path.

He was met with a chorus of yeses, much to his delight. Just then the tractor came into view, Louis at the wheel, his small frame bouncing up and down on the seat as he came to a halt at the mouth of the clearing.

Harry forgot to breathe for a moment, just like he always did when he saw Louis. It was just that he was so beautiful. But, more than that, he was kind and good and worked so hard to make the world a better place, one child at a time. And that, Harry knew, was what made him fall in love with him three years ago at that hotel along the Puget Sound.

“Hello tree huggers!” Louis called out, eyes locking with Harry’s.

“Hello Mr. Louis!” the kids all answered back.

“Ready to go back to the barn?”

Harry kept looking at Louis, noting the way his nose had already started to tan in the early spring sun and the way his flannel shirt hung off of Louis’ shoulders. Louis wore a pair of knee high rubber boots that were streaked with mud, and had grass stains on his jeans. Those jeans perpetually were grass stained, Harry thought, looking down at his own splattered and stained jeans.

The day was nearly over, the two of them needing to quickly dismiss the children so they could get Niall from the airport. Harry missed his best friend desperately, but they made time to visit and talk as much as they could. Niall had left the school they both worked at around the same time Harry had, taking a job as a pediatric social worker at the hospital. He never looked back, finding it as rewarding as he’d hoped.

“Mr. Louis?” Jeremiah asked, lisping between his missing two front teeth.

“Yes, Jeremiah?” Louis answered, pulling down the tailgate to the trailer so the kids could start climbing aboard.

“Why do you call it the barn when it’s also you and Mr. Harry’s house?” Big brown eyes stared up at Louis as Louis scratched at the back of his neck, as the five year old referred to the renovated barn that had become a school room with a closed loft/living space. He glanced at Harry, catching his eye as a mischievous grin took over his face.

“I guess you’re right, Jeremiah. Maybe it’s time that we start calling it the Tomlinson-Styles house.” Louis smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Harry helped Gretchen into the back of the trailer, closing the tailgate behind her. Smiling at Louis, Harry walked closer to him and pulled his hand inside of his. Louis gave him a squeeze and looked down at the mud-splattered but happy faces in the tractor trailer. “Or maybe we should start calling it Tomlinson house.”

Harry smiled, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest. “Or maybe Styles house.”

The clearing was bright and crisp as the children laughed and clapped their hands. “Maybe.” Louis said, letting his fiancée’s hand go so they could head back to the barn. Back home. Their home.

**Author's Note:**

> I read every single comment my readers leave me. Please be kind and leave me a little note to let me know what you think? Thanks!


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